Stay
by ElleSmith
Summary: When Catherine opened her apartment door to greet the face of one 29 year-old Heero Yuy – a man whom she hadn't seen in over a decade – she couldn't help but gape. For a moment, staring at his matured and intensely handsome face, she almost forgot why he would show up at her doorstep after all this time.


**Stay**

Granted, he was a couple of years younger than she was, but when Catherine opened her apartment door to greet the face of one 29 year-old Heero Yuy – a man whom she hadn't seen in over a decade – she couldn't help but gape. The years had certainly been kind to him. For a moment, staring at his matured and intensely handsome face, she almost forgot why he would show up at her doorstep after all this time. However, his semi-formal black attire and the modest peace lily plant he was holding in his hands were a clear and brutal reminder of his reasons: he came to pay his last respects after failing to attend her brother's funeral three days ago. Like others already inside her small Lyon apartment, he was there for a condolence visitation.

A moment passed in tense silence as he allowed her to study him quietly, taking note of the changes brought on by the last ten years. In their brief shared history, unfortunate circumstances had acquainted her with his body quite intimately. For over a month she had helped her brother nurse Heero back to health after his nasty suicide-by-Gundam attempt. She had dressed and washed his wounded body as he had lain in a coma, tending to him daily until it almost felt natural. Looking at him now, she noted that he had grown much taller since she had last seen him as a teenager, but not as tall as her brother used to be. His figure wasn't as lanky as Trowa's, rather healthily fuller; fit as one would expect a Preventer operative to be. He had matured into a strapping young man, though his expression was still as taut and intense as she recalled from his boyhood. He had the same dark and brooding good looks as Trowa... once... had.

"Catherine," Heero greeted silently; his quiet baritone voice was steady, but strained. Raising his hands respectfully, he handed her the small flower pot containing a single white Spath flower.

"I am sorry for your loss," he offered grimly, his words coming out slow and heavy. She looked up from the white flower to meet his eyes and noticed an ominous shadow that seemed to flicker across a raging sea of blue. Heero quickly cast his gaze down to stare at the tip of his black shoes, breaking eye contact. She blinked, startled to feel fresh tears forming in her eyes.

"He-Heero," she stuttered with a wavering voice and reached to accept his humble gift. "Thank you for coming," she recited the meaningless words automatically as she wrapped the palms of her hands around the small ceramic flower pot. Emotionally drained, she couldn't find the strength to lift if from his grasp, and simply remained with her hands wrapped around the vessel. They stood facing each other awkwardly, holding the plant together. Then, suddenly, he let go. Catherine had to tighten her hold on the plant before it went crashing down to the floor.

"I, uh," he let out stiffly, taking a step back. "I came as soon as I heard," he explained as he shoved his hands into his black coat pockets, looking to his side as if to examine the hallway; "The news didn't reach me until after—"

"I know," she hurried to assure him, cutting into his words for she refused to hear yet another unless apology. "It's okay," she tried to smile, though her eyes still felt moist with tears. It came out more wretched than reassuring. "It was the same with Trowa when he was out on assignment. I know what it's like to..." she murmured until her voice faded into a bitter silence. She couldn't bear to speak another word.

Heero nodded in understanding, still looking sideways as he stood rigidly with both hands in his pockets. She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat as though forcing down something terribly painful, no doubt reacting to the sound of her brother's name. She was feeling a bitter aftertaste in her mouth as well. It was an assignment that had killed her little brother, after all. Much like many times before, Preventer had taken Trowa away from her... only this time, it was for good.

"I'm just flattered you came here," the civil words slipped from her lips without thought, "instead of..."

"It felt appropriate," he interjected this time, turning to face her again by whirling his head forward sharply. The shadow had vanished from his eyes. They burnt brightly now, intensive and strong. She couldn't help but wonder if he felt that he owed her something after she had tended to him in his time of need all those years ago. Or perhaps it was a sense of obligation to a fallen comrade. She knew that, in spite of their encounters being scarce, her brother had considered Heero to be a close friend. Their comradery had formed into a deep friendship over the years. They were, she supposed, kindred spirits. She saw much of her brother in Heero, yet despite their many shared qualities, she couldn't quite say they were one of the same. It was just a feeling that she got around Heero. If she were to compare the two to the depths of a mysterious ocean, Trowa would be calm waters all the way in, while Heero's depths would be rampant waters raging under a seemingly calm surface, turbulent and wild as they spiraled restlessly into the deep. The stone-hard calm in his cold blue eyes barely managed to conceal what went on underneath. There was feistiness in him, always burning behind the cool blue surface. Looking into the cold front he tried to project, Catherine couldn't help but feel sympathy for this restless warrior. At least her brother had found peace in the arms of his lover and family. Heero, however, remained a tormented soul, one without peace.

"You shouldn't be alone at a time like this," he claimed, speaking almost softly. It felt so unnatural that, in her grief, Catherine reacted poorly to his small act of kindness. Her whole body tensed as she drew herself to her full height, going on the defensive:

"Neither should _Quatre_ ," she croaked the name out edgily, feeling the need to point it out despite herself. It was only out of obligation. Was she angry that most people felt compelled to visit the deceased's grieving lover instead of his bereaved sister? Sure. Was it fair? Of course not. But did she care? _Fuck no_. Not right now, anyway. She was well within her rights to feel angry with the world and she was going to milk the hell out of that right!

"Still," she forced an appreciative smile, trying to at least _appear_ gracious, "coming out all the way to France…"

"I was in the area," Heero informed her curtly and the smile fell from her face.

"Oh." She let out sadly. For some reason, she had figured that he came especially from the Colonies. That he came all the way to Earth instead of L4... that would have meant something. Maybe. Maybe not. She really couldn't tell anymore. Her head has been all muddled since she had gotten the news of her brother's demise. She knew that she should appreciate the gesture, even if he was just coming from Preventer HQ, but instead she felt cheated somehow. Angry. Hurt. Hateful. Resentful and a little afraid.

And yet, she put on a big brave smile and welcomed him into her home:

"Please," she offered as she stepped to open the door for him further, "come in."

He nodded in acceptance of her invitation and took a brisk step forward. She could detect the faint scent of his cologne as he walked past her into the small apartment. Her eyelids slid slowly shut as she absorbed the musky male fragrance. Her fist clenched tightly around the doorknob. She inhaled a sharp breath and opened her eyes quickly, shaking her head. It wasn't a male presence that she missed, Catherine told herself; it was her brother. She missed her dear little brother. She missed his surprise visits whenever his work took him back to Earth. Even more, she missed those _"just because"_ visits, where no work was involved. She missed the laughter over dinner when Trowa and Quatre would come to visit for the weekend and she'd insist that they'd stay with her instead of booking a hotel. She missed cooking for them, showing them around Lyon and seeing that helpless little face Trowa would make when she dragged him out shopping with Quatre. She missed those secret little smiles they'd share without Quatre's notice; the smiles that showed her how much Trowa loved his partner, how happy he was even when he didn't show it openly. She missed knowing he was alright. She missed him so much!

She closed the door behind her as she entered after Heero, desperate to leave such grim thoughts outside her small apartment. She had moved to Lyon after leaving the circus five years ago to peruse a quieter, steadier life in the ancient French city. She had found much peace and solace in its narrow cobblestone streets. Her apartment building, one of many like it in a shabby back alley of Old Town Lyon, seemed rundown and crummy, but cozy and charming in its own way. She enjoyed living in this antiquated quarter of the city, with its quaint old streets and wide variety of boutique shops and cafés. Trowa used to love spending his vacations here. It was both magical and romantic, a lovely getaway from his work at Preventer. Oh how she wished he had adhered her constant requests to leave the peace-keeping organization and join her in this peaceful little life!

She showed Heero into the small living room. He wasn't the only one visiting. Her lounge was already filled with people; a few gracious souls who came to keep her company and offer their condolences in her time of grief. They were mostly neighbors and friends, some colleagues and even her landlord. Small groups of people sat or stood around the room, eating and drinking out of a modest buffet table she had arranged with all the different dishes visitors had brought her during the past few days. It was a total farce. None of these people really knew Trowa. They only came because of social etiquette, which was the only thing keeping her from kicking them out of her apartment.

She imagined that he might feel quite at a loss standing in a room full of strangers who couldn't possibly share his grief, but she couldn't care enough to sympathize at the moment. Leaving Heero to fend on his own, she walked past the unwanted crowd and continued straight towards the other room, carrying the delicate peace lily into the kitchen. She hoped people would assume that she wanted to water it, when all she really wanted was to be alone for a moment.

The kitchen door swung shut behind her as she approached the sink. She took her time tending to the plant, stroking its green leaves lengthily and washing it gently. It took her a moment to realize she was being watched. She became self-conscious and her shoulders tensed.

"I'll be right out, Léa," she promised whom she believed was watching her – her best friend since she had moved into Lyon. It was only natural that her friend was worried.

"I just need a moment," she elaborated with a forced smile.

"Take your time," came a quiet reply, but it wasn't spoken in Léa's voice. It was Heero. Somehow, she wasn't surprised.

Slowly, she turned around to face him. He was standing between the door and the kitchen table, keeping his distance. She didn't care for the intrusion.

"Do you need anything?" She demanded, planting two hands on her hips.

He just looked at her with those piercing blue eyes of his and replied calmly: "Do _you_?"

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. "A moment of peace would be nice," she muttered nastily and spun around to face the sink again. She watered the plant again for no reason.

When close to a minute passed and he didn't respond, she turned to look over her shoulder. Heero was gone. She frowned at the closed kitchen door.

 _"Is everything alright?"_ She could hear Léa's concerned voice coming from behind the door.

 _"Yes,"_ she heard Heero answer brusquely. _"She asked to be alone."_

Normally, Catherine would have stomped back out there to give him a peace of her mind for speaking on her behalf like this, but right now all she could feel was grateful. Grateful that he had assumed the role of the _bad guy_ where she couldn't find the strength to do so.

 _"Is there anything I can do?"_ Léa inquired worriedly.

 _"You can tell them it's time to leave,"_ Heero instructed coldly and she almost laughed, picturing Léa's baffled expression. Her friend wasn't used to people being as direct and candid as Heero. Most would find him rude, but she felt relieved knowing there was no need for bullshit. She couldn't handle bullshit right now.

Silence fell soon after. She took a seat at the kitchen table and listened to people leaving her apartment. She imagined Heero remained guarding the kitchen door to make sure no one dared to disturb her. The image almost made her smile a little. In a way, he was like loyal guard dog. Very comforting. Trowa was the same way... or he used to be. He won't be there to protect her... ever again.

Tears brimmed her eyes and she hid her face in the palm of her hands, leaning over the kitchen table as she succumbed to a renewed onslaught of hopeless wailing. She didn't know how long she had sat hunched over the table like that, crying silently, but when she finally looked up, it was dark outside her kitchen window. The apartment was dead quiet. Heero must have chased everyone away, probably leaving as well.

Inhaling shakily, she rose from her seat slowly, feeling faint. Walking across her dark kitchen by feeling her way around, she made her way to the door. She hesitated before opening it, afraid she might find him there. She wanted to thank him, of course, but she also wanted him to be gone. She was aware that he must be grieving and in no less pain than she was. But that was the whole point. She didn't want to share her pain right now. She didn't want to be strong or offer sympathy. She just wanted to be left alone with the pain and the hate and the morbid thoughts circling in her head. She didn't want kindness, least of all his. It should have been him dying on some goddamned mission! No one would grieve for him, not the way they grieved for Trowa. He had no one to leave behind, but her brother did! He didn't deserve to die so young, not after all he had been through! It wasn't fair! Why did Heero have to show up here now? Where was he when Trowa was still alive? Where was this _invincible hero_ when her brother lay dying somewhere dangerous and unspeakable? Where?!

She was being irrational, but she didn't care. If he was still out there, she would say those things to his face, slap him as hard as she possibly could and then chase him out of her apartment! The nerve of him!

Bracing herself, Catherine stepped out of the kitchen, pushing the door forcefully open with two hands. She marched into the living room and immediately noted that it was dark, and empty. No one was there.

She exhaled in relief, grateful to have been spared the embarrassment of following her crazed frame of mind. She stood there a moment, staring numbly at the dark, feeling too heavy to move. These days, she lacked the energy to function even on the most basic of levels. Everything seemed devoid of meaning or purpose. She even lacked the energy to go to sleep. Trowa's death had left her hollow. Crying in the kitchen had drained her of what little drive she had managed to muster since his funeral. She could very well continue standing in the dark until daybreak, but some shred of sanity instructed her to act. To keep going through the motions. Turn the lights back on. Live life.

Surrendering to this unwarranted sense of self-preservation, she crossed the room to reach the light switch on the opposite wall. When she turned back around to face her now-illuminated living room, Catherine jolted back in surprise yelping: "Oh merde!"

Heero was still there. She didn't see him while crossing the room, because he was lying prone on the floor between the coffee table and sofa. He wasn't lying sprawled lifelessly as though he had fallen there, but stiff and flat with his chest down and his back up, arms by his side, as though he had arranged himself that way. She frowned, confused and a little apprehensive. What on Earth was he doing on her living room floor?!

"Heero?" She called his name out hesitantly and took a step closer. "Are you alright?"

Circling her sofa, she approached him carefully from behind. Bending down for a closer look, she saw that his eyes were wide open, staring numbly ahead. There was no consciousness there. Just... dead blue eyes gazing at nothing in particular.

"Oh no," she moaned, feeling her heart thump strongly in her chest. "Heero, what's wrong? Did you fall? Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?" She let out a stream of breathless questions, never expecting an answer. Kneeling next to him, she placed a trembling hand on his upper back. He was breathing slowly, steadily. That was a relief. She turned to examine his face closely. His expression was completely blank. Not shell-shocked or lax as in sleep, but empty and disturbingly vague.

She recognized this face and grimaced, pulling away. She had seen this terrible expression a few times before. This was what Trowa had looked like when suffering an acute PTSD episode. It didn't happen often, but she had been a helpless witness to a few incidents over the years. Sometimes it got so bad, that her brother simply _"shut down"_ , unable to cope. Sometimes, he would just zone out for a while and get this odd expression on his face. Other times, he would completely shut himself off to the world. It was never intentional and sometimes the most banal things would trigger it. They would be walking through some shops and she would ask him to make a simple choice, and it would be too much, overloading him somehow. He couldn't choose at all. She would ask him four or five times until she would finally decide for herself, because he would just zone out, disappearing inside his own head. Sometimes she found a way to ground him back to reality, but most of the time she just had to wait it out.

Which was exactly what she decided to do now, with Heero. Rising heavily to her feet, she moved to the couch next to him, folding her legs to her chest as she settled in for a long wait. She was prepared to sit with him until morning if necessary, until he felt ready to come back.

 _Trowa's death must have hit him really hard_ , she mused as she watched his numb face. It was foolish of her to believe otherwise. Heero might have affected a cold façade, but she had learned to see through such false pretenses long ago.

He wouldn't have come if he hadn't cared. Maybe he didn't quite know how to say it, or maybe she never gave him the chance to speak, but he must have chosen to come here, to her, because it meant something more than visiting Quatre. Maybe he felt closer to Trowa when he was with her. Maybe he needed a safe place to shut down and he knew that he would find it here. She had taken care of him before and she would do the same for him now. That's what Trowa would have wanted her to do. That's what she would have done regardless.

Many years ago, she had taken Trowa in without question, and was rewarded with a brother she had thought she'd lost. Now that he was gone, she will take Heero in, and perhaps gain a new friend. Maybe even something more, if he'd play along. She dared dream that, together, they will work through this tragedy, somehow. One way or another, they will be there for each other. It would end bad, sure, but at least the loss would be more bearable for a while. It was all she had to go on at the moment, so... why not?

A sad little smile crept to her lips. She was being foolish again, but she didn't care. She rose from the sofa and settled back on the floor, squeezing between Heero and the coffee table. She lied next to him and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer as she snuggled against his comforting warmth. He didn't stir nor blink, remaining completely stoic in her embrace. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent deep into her lungs, aching to feel close to a man. She stroked his hair gently, as she had once done for Trowa when he became like this, and leaned to whisper sweet nothings in his ear:

"Thank you for coming," she murmured, this time meaning what she said. She kissed his cheek softly and added helplessly: "You're welcomed to stay for as long as you need..."

* * *

…and that's all she wrote, folks.

I might refine this some day. Maybe even expand upon it a little. Maybe. Who knows?

So, uh… How bad was it?


End file.
